


All He Could Ever Want

by missbecky



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Anal Sex, Fluff, Hartwin Secret Santa, Humor, M/M, Porn With Plot, Praise Kink, Rimming, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-16 00:31:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5806297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missbecky/pseuds/missbecky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eggsy Unwin is the perfect gentleman, and the perfect Kingsman agent, and Harry could not be more proud of him. There may never be any public recognition for everything he has achieved, but that doesn't mean Harry can't share his feelings in private.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All He Could Ever Want

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sourdough_pup](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sourdough_pup/gifts).



Four months after V-Day, two months to the day after Harry's return to work with a new scar and a shorter temper than ever, Percival says to him, "I'm very impressed with Gawain."

They're having a few drinks together, the way they used to before James died, before Eggsy took Harry's life by storm. It was Percival's suggestion, but Harry was quick to accept. Traditions must be observed, after all, and anyway, he missed spending time with his friend.

Outside it's almost completely dark, although it's barely time for rush hour. The pub is dim and quiet, and their table is in the corner, where they both have a good view of the door. Harry is on his second pint, and Percival -– simply Alastair now that they're away from Kingsman -- is ready for his third.

"What has he done now?" Harry asks. He feels a warm glow of pride spread through him. Alastair isn't the only one to have commented on Eggsy's prowess as Kingsman's newest knight. Each time it happens, he feels the same pride, the same urge to go home and kiss the amazing young man in question. He always knew Eggsy had it in him; it pleases him immensely when other people admit it, too. After spending most of his life having people write him off because of his accent and his background, it's about damn time that Eggsy got the recognition he deserves.

"Nothing, really," Alastair says. "But that's rather the point. I think we all expected him to find it difficult to fit in. But he's done brilliantly. He's quite the perfect Kingsman." He stands up and heads for the bar to get another pint.

Harry watches him go. He's at a loss for words, so surprised he wouldn't know what to say even if Alastair hadn't just left.

_We all expected him to find it difficult to fit in._

Had they really? If so, it's news to Harry. No one has ever spoken negatively about Eggsy in his presence, nor has he heard anything from Merlin or the new Arthur. There's been the usual office gossip, of course, but to the best of his knowledge none of it has been about Eggsy. Or rather, it _has_ , but only in the context of whispers about his and Eggsy's relationship.

In fact, near as Harry can tell, Eggsy _is_ the perfect Kingsman. He has not once failed a mission. He has no civilian casualties to his name. When he returns to HQ he brings little gifts for Merlin and the other agents. He is charming, clever, and unfailingly polite. He is the very model of what a gentleman should be, and Harry could not be more proud of him.

Perhaps, he thinks, it's time he shared that with Eggsy.

Alastair comes back with two new glasses. He sits down and pushes one in front of Harry. He sighs. "I'm off to Lille tomorrow," he says. Then in rather morose French, he proceeds to list all the reasons he doesn't want to go.

Harry nods. He's only half-listening. He's thinking about Eggsy, and all the ways Eggsy has brightened his life. Today Eggsy is away, on his second day in Prague for a mission Harry isn't supposed to know about, but of course does.

But when Eggsy gets back…

There will never be any public recognition for everything Eggsy has achieved, but that doesn't mean Harry can't share his feelings in private.

The thought makes him smile, although he hides it by sipping at his drink. He never lets an opportunity pass him by to praise Eggsy and make him feel good about himself. But for something like this he will need to lay actual plans. It will take some time to get everything properly arranged and set up.

He smiles again, and this time doesn't bother to hide it.

He's quite looking forward to this.

****

It's raining when Eggsy gets home, that clinging London mist that's more an irritation than an actual rain. He's glad he decided to take the Kingsman cab home; umbrella or no, he doesn't fancy spending time walking in the rain.

He thanks the driver as he gets out. Glastonbury is behind him, that city with its famous Tor and shops full of frankly terrifyingly weird stuff. The man he was shadowing did indeed prove to be part of a larger organization, a group that Kingsman has suspected the existence of for at least a month now. This as-yet nameless group apparently wants to take advantage of the many power vacuums left in the British government after V-Day -- and not in a good way, either.

Sooner or later someone is going to have to do something about them. But for now, their new Arthur is content to send agents like Eggsy out on brief recon missions to quietly gather intel about the group. It could almost be boring, but since today's mission is a success, plus with the added bonus of being done quickly enough that he's home in time for dinner, Eggsy can't really complain.

JB barks as Eggsy opens the door and walks inside. He sets the Rainmaker in the brass umbrella stand just inside the door and breathes in deep.

The house is delightfully warm and smells absolutely delicious; immediately his stomach growls, reminding him that it's been hours since he last ate. Harry is there to greet him, wearing a pinstriped apron over his dress shirt and trousers. "Welcome home, Eggsy."

Before Eggsy even knows what's happening, Harry is helping him out of his coat like a proper valet. He turns around in bafflement. "Hey, Harry."

"Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes," Harry says as he hangs Eggsy's coat up. "Can I get you a drink?"

Instantly suspicious by this behavior, Eggsy just stares. "What's goin' on?"

"Nothing is 'going on,' as you put it," Harry replies. He looks perfectly innocent, which Eggsy knows far better than to fall for. "One would think I wasn't allowed to make dinner for the young man I love."

It's been months now, and still Eggsy gets a weird little kick in his chest to hear that kind of thing. To remember all over again how fucking lucky he is to have Harry, to love him and be loved in return.

As Roxy is fond of reminding him, sometimes it actually _is_ that kind of movie.

"Yeah, all right," he gives in. Like he's really going to whinge about having dinner served up to him by Harry Hart.

"Martini?" Harry asks.

"Sure," Eggsy says. He's developed quite a taste for them, one he knows is mostly psychological. That night Harry taught him how to make a "proper" martini was the first time they really spent any time together. It hadn't been near long enough, of course, but it had been long enough for Eggsy to be completely certain that he was arse over tits in love with Harry.

Drink in hand, he wanders into the kitchen, where he's both delighted and surprised to see the makings of kebabs. They're his favorite, but quite time-consuming to put together, and not something they have at home very often. "So what's the occasion?"

"Nothing really," Harry says. He smiles that fond smile that never fails to make Eggsy feel warm all over, and gives him a kiss. "Only that you're back home after yet another successful mission."

"Yeah, well," Eggsy says, and sips at his drink.

"How many does this make?" Harry asks.

Eggsy shrugs, way too casual. "Ain't like I'm countin'."

He is, though. Inside his head where no one will ever know. Today was his forty-second mission with Kingsman.

He's had a busy four months.

He takes off his suit coat and loosens his tie, then pulls it off altogether. He drapes it across the back of a chair at the dining room table. "When did you get home?"

"A couple hours ago," Harry says. Which means he's been doing nothing since then but putting dinner together. The thought makes Eggsy feel guilty and pleased, all at the same time.

He sips at his martini. He really does have the most awesome life.

****

Dinner is fantastic, just like he knew it would be. The kebabs are perfect, served with a loaf of crusty bread on the side. For dessert there's a fresh-baked apple pie that's so good Eggsy utters the low groan he normally reserves for when he's naked and in bed. "Jesus, Harry," he says around a mouthful of pie.

Harry just smiles, pleased by his reaction.

He pats his stomach. "I'm gonna need some serious gym time after this." But what the hell, he decides. Some things are worth it.

"Oh," Harry says. "That reminds me. I have something for you." He gets up and goes into the small laundry room located off the dining room.

"It better not be more food," Eggsy says as he sets his fork down on his empty plate. "I think I need to undo my trousers already."

"Well, I certainly wouldn't be averse to that," Harry calls back, amusement in his voice.

Eggsy grins and shakes his head. To look at him all buttoned-up and proper, you would never know how thoroughly debauched Harry could be. Eggsy knows otherwise, though, a fact that he holds close to himself with the greatest pleasure.

Harry returns to the dining room with a small gift-wrapped box in his hands. He sits at the chair beside Eggsy's. "For you."

Eggsy stares. First dinner and drinks, now this. "Okay, seriously Harry. What's going on?"

"Just open it," Harry says, and holds out the box.

The wrapping paper is gold and white, the ribbon gold. Eggsy unties the ribbon and sets it on the table next to his plate. He peels off the wrapping paper to reveal a glass box beneath.

Inside the box, resting on a blue velvety stand, is a tie pin. A tiny golden umbrella.

Eggsy's breath catches. "Is that…?"

"The Rainmaker Too," Harry says. "Or whatever they're officially calling it." He smiles. "Kingsman has unanimously chosen you to be the first agent to field test it."

Grinning widely, feeling like he did that day Harry revealed the wonders behind fitting room three, Eggsy opens the box and takes out the tie pin. He holds it gingerly, not wanting to set the thing off. "Fuck me," he breathes.

For the past couple months, all the Kingsman agents have been waiting with great interest for the unveiling of the newest toy to come from the Berlin branch. Roxy has told him that there's always been a big rivalry between the agents to be the first one to test any new tech that comes their way. Everyone who can be spared gathers around Merlin's workstation and watches eagerly as the lucky agent gives the tech a trial run. Afterward there's usually a celebration involving lots of martinis and cigars and slaps on the back.

Unsurprisingly, it's usually Harry who gets to be the lucky one. Eggsy had expected it would be the same this time, too.

But instead they've chosen him.

"I understand that you'll be going to Glasgow next week," Harry prompts.

"Yeah," Eggsy says warily, although how the hell Harry knows that when he just found out today is beyond him. Yeah, he's going to Glasgow, where he's got to find a way inside the offices of a major corporation and do a little espionage. It should be a simple mission, a few hours at the most.

He looks down at the gold umbrella and smiles slyly. The little tie pin looks cute, but behind that twee design is a transmitter capable of turning on any building fire sprinkler system, while simultaneously shutting down most computer networks. It's the perfect way to cause chaos for a Kingsman agent trapped in enemy territory, an escape plan shaped like an umbrella.

"Congratulations, Gawain," Harry says. His tone is solemn enough, but he's smiling, pride in his eyes.

Eggsy gently sets the tie pin on the table. "Why me, though? I mean, this is fucking awesome…but why choose me?"

"Eggsy," Harry begins. He looks quite serious now. "A couple weeks ago I had a discussion with Percival."

"Yeah, when you two was out drinkin'," Eggsy says. He remembers that night, the way Harry came home drunk and almost giggly, all loose limbs and smiles, his hair falling into his eyes in thick curls, his arm draped over Eggsy's shoulders as they climbed the stairs for bed.

"Yes," Harry says. "And he said something that really made me think. He said you were the perfect Kingsman."

Eggsy sits very still. He doesn't know what to say to that. No one has ever called him the perfect anything before.

"And he is right," Harry continues. "You are everything a Kingsman and a gentleman should be." He smiles. "Although with your rather unique brand of charm."

That much is true, Eggsy has to admit. It hadn't always been that way, though. But only Merlin knows the truth, and that's because he was there. Only Merlin saw how hard he tried to be Harry in the beginning. And not even Merlin knows that when he was at Valentine's party, it wasn't Chester King he was pretending to be. It was Harry Hart.

Then came the amazing news that Harry was still alive, and everything had changed. And mixed in with the overwhelming joy had been a quiet relief. He could stop pretending now. He could be himself.

Since then he hasn't looked back.

"You have achieved so much, but the unfortunate fact is that there will never be any rewards for that, nor any medals, nor any recognition. Kingsman must remain a secret, and that means your achievements must, as well. But I wanted you to know that _I_ see what you do. And so do the other agents." Harry smiles. "Your efforts have not gone unnoticed, Eggsy. And I wanted you to know that. 

"And there you have it. Your special occasion. The reason for tonight is simple. It's you, Eggsy Unwin."

_He said you were the perfect Kingsman._

There are no words. He is floored. He hasn't done any of this for recognition. All he's ever wanted – with the exception of getting his revenge on Chester King and Richmond Valentine – was just to do the best he can. He's wanted to make Harry proud, to show everyone he is a Kingsman in spite of his accent and his background. He's wanted to make the world a better place, to make up for his fuckups on V-Day, to play even a small role in setting the world to rights again.

"I don't…" He shrugs half-heartedly, still not knowing what to say. He feels weirdly warm all over, the way he always does whenever Harry praises him. Normally Harry is more reserved with that kind of thing, casually dropping compliments into ordinary conversation. _Congratulations on making it to the final six candidates. Your weapons scores are excellent, by the way._ This kind of outright praise has him feeling a bit stunned – and rather undone.

"You needn't say anything," Harry says. He stands up, then moves close enough to set his hand on Eggsy's shoulder. He leans down to press a kiss to the top of Eggsy's head.

The weight and warmth of his hand sends a little thrill racing through Eggsy. He's so gone for Harry that even the slightest touch from him leaves Eggsy wanting more. He loves the way Harry touches him with those beautiful hands, with such competence and strength, but with a curious gentleness that makes him wonder sometimes just how Harry sees him. Even when they've been away from each other for a few days, when they slam up against the wall scrabbling at the clothing that's just in the way because it's been so long and they need to feel skin on skin, Harry is never rough with him.

Not that Eggsy's complaining. Thanks to Dean, he's had his fill of being manhandled.

If it was Harry doing it, though… He's not so sure he would mind. He wonders if he might even like it.

Harry's hand slides off his shoulder, and for a moment Eggsy nearly makes a sound of protest. He watches Harry gather up their empty plates, and at last he manages to break through the dazed astonishment that's had hold of him ever since he first saw the tie pin and realized what it meant.

He stands up. "Thanks, Harry. You didn't have to do all this."

Harry just looks at him. "I know that," he says quietly. "But I wanted to."

And whatever Harry wants, Harry gets. Another thing Eggsy certainly isn't going to complain about, because at this particular time in his life, Harry wants _him_. And since that works both ways, Eggsy is definitely not about to do anything to change his mind.

"Now," Harry says, and his tone is the one that says he won't be refused. "If you would please head upstairs while I finish up in here, I would greatly appreciate it."

Bemused, Eggsy just nods. He heads for the stairs, JB panting happily at his heels.

In the bedroom he finds an enormously fluffy, brand-new blue dressing gown draped across the bed. Resting on top of it are two slippers. These aren't Kingsman issue, with the sideways K across the top. These are honest-to-goodness fuzzy bunny slippers. Laughing with delight, Eggsy unties his Oxfords, yanks his socks off, and slides his feet into the slippers. He waggles his feet and the bunny ears flop around.

They're fucking aces.

Shuffling in his new slippers, he goes into the bathroom. In here, everything has been set out for a long, lazy bath. Towels are stacked on the counter, bath oils and a new sponge laid out for his selection. A candle burns atop the toilet tank, some soothing scent that Eggsy can't quite place, but which he finds perfectly acceptable.

The bath is heavenly. He tips his head back on the rim of the tub and sighs. He could definitely get used to this. He feels utterly spoiled, ridiculously happy.

And they haven't even got to the best part of the evening yet.

He lazes around in the bath for a good long while, and at last only gets moving when he hears JB snuffling around the closed door. It's time to get going, he thinks. After all, Harry is waiting on him.

The thought alone is enough to send blood to his cock. He hasn't even been gone one full day; he said good-bye to Harry this morning with a hurried kiss on his way out. But his need to touch Harry, to lie back and be touched in return, makes him suddenly feel like it's been forever.

He finishes up in the bathroom and wraps himself in the new dressing gown again. It's wonderfully warm and just the right size, clearly tailored for him. On his feet, the ears of the bunny slippers flop around and wobble and he is _definitely_ gonna have to get a pair of these for Daisy.

Harry is in the bedroom, sitting patiently on the edge of the bed. He's still completely dressed. He smiles when he sees Eggsy walk in with damp hair and the bunny slippers. "I see you found your other gifts."

Eggsy kicks one foot out. "These are the fuckin' best thing ever. But you know you didn't have to."

"I know," Harry says. "But you always bring back little gifts for people from your missions. I thought it only fair that you receive something in return."

It's true. From Glastonbury he brought Roxy some weird astrology crystals, and for Kay there's a model replica of the Tor. Useful for a paperweight, but it could also definitely double as a stabbing weapon, should the need ever arise – which knowing Kay, it will.

Harry stands up. "Of course, you will have to take them off."

"You gonna make me?" Eggsy smirks.

"Do I need to?" Harry asks casually.

Eggsy blinks. That's not at all the answer he was expecting. It makes him feel shivery all over to think about it. It's on the tip of his tongue to say yes, just to see what Harry will do, but at the last second he changes his mind. Yeah, he might be curious, but that kind of power play isn't something to rush into. They'll need to talk about it first. A lot.

And he isn't interested in doing a lot of talking tonight.

"Nah," he says. He toes off the slippers and pushes them aside with a bare foot. " 'm not sure I could do it anyway with them little faces starin' up at me."

"Nor could I," Harry says. His sounds serious, but amusement sparkles in his eyes.

They just stand there for a little bit, looking at each other. Eggsy always loves these moments when the anticipation draws out and he imagines the ways Harry is going to take him apart. His cock swells a little more at the thought, and he becomes very aware of the soft fabric of the dressing gown on his skin.

At last Harry walks slowly toward him. His hand rises to cup Eggsy's jaw. "I am so proud of you, my dear. And I love you very much." His thumb strokes Eggsy's cheek, and Eggsy leans into it, resisting the urge to close his eyes.

"Will you let me show you?" Harry says. His voice drops into a lower register, deep and throaty and sexy as hell.

"Yeah," Eggsy breathes.

"Will you let me touch you? Me and only me?"

"Yeah," Eggsy says and he's hard already, his whole body thrumming with tension beneath the dressing gown.

"Thank you, Eggsy," Harry murmurs, and kisses him.

He'll never get over the way Harry kisses him. Each kiss might be their last, their first after years apart, the only kiss they will ever share. Harry's hands, the hands of a stone-cold killer, are sweet on his face. His body, not quite fully restored to the lean strength it enjoyed before he was shot, is warm against Eggsy's. And his mouth... _Fuck._

He pulls at Harry's shirt, wanting to set his hands on bare skin -- it's not fair that Harry should be so thoroughly covered up still. "Off," he pants, his breath mingling with Harry's, his lips wet and soft.

Harry backs away a little, but he never breaks eye contact. He undresses with the same effortless grace that flavors everything he does, a grace Eggsy knows he'll never achieve for himself no matter how hard he tries. He watches with pride and anticipation as more and more of Harry's body is revealed. And at the end, as the last article of clothing is dropped carelessly to the floor, he unbelts the blue dressing gown and lets that fall, too.

"Oh, my dear," Harry sighs.

He preens a little, can't really help it. He works hard to stay in shape, a task made more difficult by how well he eats these days. Still, he looks good and he knows it. It's gratifying as hell to see the way Harry's cock swells just at the sight of him.

Not that he's the only one.

He moves in, closing the space between them. Naked, they kiss again, all wet lips and tongue. Eggsy gets a hand between them, his fingers sliding down Harry's side and belly to encircle his cock. At the touch, Harry makes a guttural noise that sends a hot thrill through Eggsy.

"Yeah?" he says, mouthing at Harry's upper lip, the crease where his dimple shows when he smiles, the smooth skin of his cheek.

"Yes," Harry sighs. His hands press on Eggsy's shoulders, pulling him closer.

"Yeah," Eggsy agrees. He reaches for his own cock.

And suddenly Harry moves away, out of his grasp, putting cold space between them once again. "No."

Bewildered, Eggsy stares at him. "No?"

"Let me," Harry says. "Tonight is about you. Let _me_ touch you."

Eggsy gets it then, and he smirks. He even holds out his hands a little in a _well, come on then_ gesture of invitation.

"But only me," Harry says. "Can you do that? Can you stand still and let me touch you?"

His cock is already begging to be touched, especially by someone who knows how to _really_ make him beg. But he's up for the challenge, Eggsy thinks. Or so he hopes. "Yeah."

They kiss again and this time Harry is fully in control. He walks backward, bringing Eggsy with him, walking in short steps so he won't break the kiss. Just in front of the bed they stop, and Harry murmurs, "You are so beautiful."

Eggsy flushes a little. Harry kisses the corner of his mouth, then his cheek. Other kisses follow, down his neck, warm lips nipping at the mole on his throat, hot breath on the hollow between his collarbones. Harry's hands glide up his back as he kisses the place just above Eggsy's heart, then slide down to cup his arse and pull him in as he closes his mouth over Eggsy's nipple.

"Fuck," Eggsy breathes. He clutches at Harry's shoulders, can't help thrusting his hips forward. He wants so badly to reach down and give himself a few strokes, but he promised he wouldn't, so he clings to Harry instead.

His other nipple gets the same attention. Every swipe of Harry's tongue over the sensitive flesh goes right to his cock. Every flex of Harry's fingers on his arse makes him want more. 

Just when he thinks he can't stand it any longer, Harry moves to stand behind him. His hands are never still, mapping out all the places where his lips and tongue follow. He kisses Eggsy all over, warm kisses on his shoulder blades, the small of his back, the curve of his spine. His breath is hot on Eggsy's skin, but his kisses are smooth, with none of the usual burn and drag from the end-of-day stubble. The thought of it, knowing that Harry shaved again just for this, is almost too much.

And then Harry is suddenly on his knees, deft fingers parting his cheeks, and it's all Eggsy can do not to shout out loud. He reaches out and grips the footboard of the bed as Harry kisses him, licking between his legs. He's clean, of course, he knew what to do in the bath, but it still shocks him a little. Harry's tongue licks at his hole, tasting him, and Eggsy groans out loud. "Oh fuck, oh God."

"You are beautiful everywhere," Harry says. His hands glide down Eggsy's thighs, all the way down to his ankles. He nuzzles at Eggsy's arse, kisses one round cheek, then bites down.

It's not really a bite, more like a nip, but Eggsy yelps and jerks forward. Harry's hands settle on his hips and his lips press to the spot he just bit. Heated warmth rushes to that overly sensitive area of skin and Eggsy realizes with amused surprise that Harry means to leave a mark there, a hickey no one but him will ever see.

It's one of the many things Eggsy loves about Harry, that he's never hesitant to demonstrate possession, but he remains enough of a gentleman to do it discreetly. It's something Eggsy knows he never has to fear: Harry will never deliberately shame him.

Harry _will_ make him beg, though, something he's awfully damn close to doing already. He grasps the bedframe tightly so he doesn't reach for his cock and bumps his arse backward, hoping Harry gets the hint.

Harry's fingers tighten on his hips. Not enough to bruise, but enough to remind him that he promised to stand still.

"It's rude to interrupt," Harry says mildly. Like he's discussing the weather, not kneeling naked on the floor with his cock out. "I wasn't finished."

Eggsy whines in the back of his throat as Harry's mouth finds his other cheek. The bite this time is fiercer, almost painful, and the rush of blood to the skin makes him whine again.

"Such pretty noises," Harry murmurs. He flexes his fingers, gliding along Eggsy's hips. His hands slide inward, tickling a little, teasing him, but not getting close enough to actually touch his straining cock.

"What is it you want?" Harry asks.

"You," Eggsy says right away. "You, Harry."

"I'm afraid you'll need to be more specific than that, my dear," Harry says. One of his hands lifts and is gone; immediately Eggsy misses the warmth of that touch. Worse, he knows Harry is touching himself, stroking his own gorgeous cock instead of taking pity on Eggsy's plight.

"You," he says again. "I need you. In me. Touching me." He can't stop the sideways jerk of his hips, trying to get Harry's hand closer to his cock. "Please."

"You mean like this?" And in a swift move that's pretty fucking cool for someone his age, Harry is off his knees and standing up, spinning Eggsy around so they're standing face to face. He wraps one hand around Eggsy's cock and with the other he captures the back of Eggsy's neck. "Is this what you want?"

He knows just what Eggsy likes, the things that drive him crazy. "Fuck yeah," Eggsy groans, and thrusts into his hand.

"What about this?" Harry murmurs. His fingers encircle the base of Eggsy's cock and apply pressure. At the same time the fingertips of his other hand trail down Eggsy's spine, on down to his arse. There's a teasing moment when he feels the lightest pressure at his hole, still wet from Harry's tongue. Then one slender finger is pushed inside, and Eggsy's whole body jolts forward.

"Fuck," he pants. "Yeah." He thrusts into the tight circle of Harry's fingers, and as his hips move backward he sinks deeper onto the digit inside him.

Back and forth he moves and Harry is staring at him with those beautiful eyes, sweat glistening on his skin. Back and forth and he could come like this, caught between Harry's clever hands.

"It's not what you need, though," Harry says, "is it?"

It's not. For a moment it's on the tip of his tongue to plead with Harry to spin him around again, bend him over the footboard and just ream him without mercy. But that's something that belongs to another night. Not tonight.

"No," he says. " 's not."

Harry releases him and points wordlessly to the nightstand. He walks toward the bathroom.

Eggsy wastes no time. He gets the lube out, fumbles and drops the cap in his haste. He presses one slick finger inside himself, then another, breathing in deep with one foot propped up on the bed.

He's still standing there when Harry emerges again, his breath minty fresh. He leans in, holding Eggsy's arm to help him keep his balance. "Ready?"

"Hell yeah," Eggsy says, and Harry kisses him.

There's nothing held back in that kiss. Eggsy opens his mouth to Harry's tongue and wraps his glistening fingers about Harry's cock. Harry groans and his hips jerk forward.

Eggsy grins, which kind of ruins their kiss, but at this point he doesn't really care. "Come on."

They climb on the bed, Eggsy lying on his left side, Harry behind him. He shudders a little as Harry presses in, at the sensation of being so utterly filled. This is what he needs, oh yes.

"Eggsy?"

"Yes," he says.

The pace Harry sets is almost too slow for Eggsy's need. He scatters little kisses across Eggsy's neck and right shoulder, and Eggsy half rolls over so he can kiss Harry properly.

"You are so beautiful like this," Harry says.

Eggsy just grins.

Harry thrusts faster after that, his breath hot on Eggsy's skin. "Touch yourself for me," he commands, and Eggsy groans gratefully as he at last slides his hand up and over his cock, thumbing at the slit and smearing precome all over his belly. He's feverish all over, a mess of lust and want and love.

Harry is silent when he comes, but his hand bears down heavily on Eggsy's hip. As he sinks back, he places a gentle kiss on the back of Eggsy's neck. "Come for me now, dearest."

And Eggsy does.

****

It's going on midnight and he's just drifting pleasantly when Harry suddenly says, "Shit."

Jolted back from the edge of sleep, Eggsy is instantly wary and alert. "What is it?"

Harry rolls away and makes a low noise of discontent. In the darkness Eggsy can't really see his expression, but he can practically feel the displeasure radiating off him, the tension in a body that was only moments ago relaxed and curled against his own. "There was meant to be brandy with the pie. I forgot."

It's so not what he was expecting that Eggsy can't help snorting with laughter. Harry looks over at him, and Eggsy makes himself become serious. He sits up and stares down at Harry and utters a noise of pretend outrage. "There was meant to be _brandy_ with the _pie_ , and I didn't get any? That's the last straw. I'm leaving you." He acts like he's getting out of bed.

Harry's arm captures him about his waist and pulls him back again. "As if I'd let you."

Laughing, Eggsy lets himself be reeled in. He lies back down and rests his head on Harry's shoulder. "As if I ever would, you wanker."

In answer, Harry just hums in agreement and kisses his forehead.

He laughs again, silent and amazed. Brandy, of all things. Only Harry Hart.

Eggsy sighs contentedly. All things considered, he's had a pretty damn good day. Another successful mission, an amazing dinner, some incredible sex with the man he loves. Harry's words of praise still ring in his ears, giving him a flush of pride and a sense of satisfaction. He's always hoped that he was doing a good job of being a Kingsman, and now he knows for sure that he is. It's deeply gratifying.

But all that's just the icing on the cake. Because this right here, this moment right now is all he could ever want. Lying here with Harry's arm around him, his hand resting on Harry's chest, rising a little with every breath Harry takes. Feeling safe and secure, and utterly, blissfully happy.

This is his real reward.

**Author's Note:**

> sourdough_pup: I hope you liked the story! I know I didn't follow the prompt to the letter, but I tried to add in as many of your likes as I could.


End file.
